Reign
by cherryvanillaaa
Summary: Ice queen, they call me. Cold-blooded, stone-hearted. Most of the time, they're right. It's not that I think emotions are for softies, or that I think I'm too good for a few tears here and there; I just can't bring myself to care, sometimes. They weren't kidding when they said I had ice in my veins. None of them know that I have emotions. I have feelings. Killer Frost/King Shark


**Heyyyy peeps, so if any of y'all have seen Assault On Arkham, you know how awesome it is - annnd I** _ **totally**_ **ship Killer Frost and King Shark XD So pretty much, this version of the story is that they both lived (sorry, spoilers for anyone who hasn't seen the movie), and that Black Spider also lived, because he's an effin' badass. So, without further ado, here's the story! It's gonna be redonkulous guys, so be prepared XD**

 _Ice queen,_ they call me. _Cold-blooded, stone-hearted_. Most of the time, they're right. It's not that I think emotions are for softies, or that I think I'm too good for a few tears here and there; I just can't bring myself to care, sometimes.

They weren't kidding when they said I had ice in my veins.

None of them know that I have _emotions_. I have _feelings_. Then again, who really blames them? I'm not a warm, fuzzy type of person, nor am I the easiest of people to get along with. And I'm not speaking in self pity; not putting myself down in the least. Those are facts. In my line of 'work', trust is a very, _very_ big thing. You don't just get close to anyone - can't be too willing to put your life in someone else's hands. You do the wrong thing and you're screwed. Trust the wrong person, and next thing you know, there's a dagger sticking outta your back. It definitely keeps you on your toes; it's no desk job.

Trust has never really been my forte, anyways. Since I'm what everyone refers to as a 'meta-human' (see 'freak of nature', and 'helluva badass'), feared by many for my abilities, I've learned to keep to myself. I know, I know, you hear that a lot. Loner, keeps their distance, doesn't trust anyone... But in my position, you'd understand. Trust me on that one. I was doing just fine, working alone, until I was forced into a group of misfits like me known as Taskforce X. I had the option to back out, of course, and then promptly have my head blown off. So between doing a few short-leashed jobs and _living_ , or saying 'fuck it' and _dying_ , I chose the first option.

And that's how I met him.

This is where that 'feelings' and 'emotions' part that I mentioned earlier comes in.

You only get one chance at a first impression, and my first impression of him was nothing if not memorable. To be frank, he tried to eat me. Bet'cha don't hear that too often. When I say _eat_ , I mean he literally had the intention of consuming my body; grabbed me by the leg and lifted me entirely off the ground, ass up. Luckily for me, I can defend myself.

My humble recruiters for this illustrious team had stuck a steel block on my hands - almost like one giant, thick handcuff - so that I wouldn't be able to use my powers. They had hindered all of us for safety purposes; covering the lower half of my attacker's face was a Hannibal Lecter type mask that was supposed to prevent him from apparently _biting down_ on anything (or anyone). I guessed he had some sort of hybrid-animal thing going on; he had claws at the end of each finger, grey, tough skin, a red mohawk that looked almost like a dorsal fin, and not to mention the fact that he was about seven fucking feet tall. This mask, while a precaution, didn't necessarily sate my fear of the fact that I was probably about to be a meal for this giant shark man. Muzzle or no muzzle, he could still tear me apart with his bear hands and save me for later. Obviously, in a room full of criminals, no one was going to bat an eyelash to help me.

Like I said: lucky for me, I can defend myself. Powers or no powers.

The moment I felt that massive claw clamp around my leg, I twisted in the air and kicked him in the groin with my free leg. Grunting, he dropped me, stumbling back. I jumped up and pounded him in the face with the block encasing my hands, for good measure. This time, he fell back completely on the ground, and I jumped on top of him before he could sit up, jamming the metal block up under his chin. Leaning down, I simply said, " _Try it, fish fingers, and I'll show you the meaning of cold-blooded._ " Noting how far I had to keep my legs apart to straddle his substantial chest, I briefly wondered if I was mooning everyone else in the room with my _less_ than substantial covering. The massive man beneath me grinned, despite the position he was in - it was clear enough that I could tell even with the muzzle on. "You're _feisty_." he'd growled, quietly. I found myself actually having to supress a grin of my own.

Who knew that all it would take was a swift kick to the balls for me to make a friend? I grew fond of the shark guy, whom I'd come to know as King Shark. I had a funny feeling he'd immediately taken to me the moment I knocked him on his ass. He was demented like that, as was I.

We all ended up completing our shared mission, though it wasn't the one we'd been hired for. We got the hell away from any and all authority the moment we realized that we were being played hardcore (surprise, surprise). The Riddler - whom we'd picked up along the way on our wild goose chase through Arkham Asylum - by some stroke of psychotic genius, managed to disarm the bombs that the leaders behind Taskforce X had stuck in our necks to get us to be more compliant. And then we were off on our next crazy adventure without Amanda Waller hanging over our heads. We had deduced that splitting up probably wouldn't be the best idea, as that was how she had managed to gather us all together in the first place. Safe to say, I wasn't too upset at the prospect of getting to know Shark a bit more.

It was definitely weird - I'd been exposed to what men were really like since I realized I could manipulate them, seduce them... before taking advantage of them. That wasn't my main game, nor was it my favorite. But if I was short on cash, and couldn't hit up a bank, finding the nearest rich guy and winking at him (before dismembering him) was a quick and easy wallet booster. I'd been on dates; hell, I wasn't _that_ antisocial. But I'd never felt _anything_ for any of them.

Come to think of it, I'd never felt affection for anyone, that I could remember.

I could've gone off by myself - I've been on my own my whole life. I knew I could've evaded the police, and probably Batman, too. They'd never catch me. And nothing was keeping me here now. Instead, I chose to be a team player amongst a crazy clown chick, a sharp shooting assassin, a ninja, a man who told way too many riddles, a man who threw sticks that came back to him, and a giant shark-man whom I - God help me - realized that I actually had a crush on.

This was gonna be _interesting_.


End file.
